


Plausible Deniability

by Pluppelina



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Erotic Dreams, Jim is manipulative, M/M, Masturbation, Sebastian is clueless, Somnophilia, UST, dub-con, emailing, rape fantasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-16
Updated: 2012-08-16
Packaged: 2017-11-12 07:17:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/488166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pluppelina/pseuds/Pluppelina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some people would call it passive aggressive - Sebastian calls it plausible deniability.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plausible Deniability

'I had the most interesting dream tonight. It took me a while to figure out that it was a dream, though. You would've probably understood it at once, there were so many things wrong. I was in your bedroom, for one, just standing there, looking down at you. You managed to look pale even on your white Egyptian cotton sheets. Really, impressive, that. I've never seen anyone look so white as to make clean sheets look dirty.

How come I saw your body, you might ask. What about your ridiculous goose feather comforter? Well, you'd kicked it off. Of course you had. It's just about August and that thing is so warm I would never be able to sleep in it. Not that you'd ever ask.

To get back on track... There you were, all pale and smooth, as though someone had carved you out of rock. You were naked. Do you sleep naked, in reality? I bet you do. I bet you only stumble out of bed in the morning to put on some underwear. I know that you don't own any pajamas, of course, that would be redundant. So naked it is. 

Next, I'm climbing onto those sheets of yours, and they're so impossibly soft. Someone once told me you can't feel things in dreams but I dream in touch all the time. I have to admit, it's nicer to feel your 1600 thread count sheets than the Afghan sand. No matter - Afghan sand is the furthest thing from my mind, right now. 

Before long I'm hovering over you, and I'm naked, too. I do sleep naked in real life, of course, clothes just get in the way. You're so still you might as well be dead, although I know you're not, simply because Jim Moriarty would never allow himself to be caught dead in his sleep. However, your sleep is deep enough that you’re going to stay under through most anything.

So... I lean down, and I kiss the back of your neck. I kiss your spine... I can't remember the taste but I recall thinking that you tasted good, and I am going to take my word for it. You should, too. Then, before you know it, I'm inside of you. It's the way dreams work, you know? Blink and you're somewhere else. Blink, and I'm inside of your sleeping body. You're so warm, for once, so warm and tight and slick, as though you had prepared yourself for me. I can almost see it, you lying there, spread out, moaning like a whore around your own fingers...

But I'm getting side-tracked. I wake up before I come, or the dream shifts, or something happens. The way dreams work all over again. Blink, and we're not fucking any longer. Blink, and I'm awake in my own bed with a boner. 

I think about going into your bedroom then. You know I do. It would be so easy, you know? You're so bloody little, so little and weak by comparison. It's why you keep me around the flat at all, isn’t it, because I'm big enough to defend you should something happen... But you don't have anyone to defend you from me. You wouldn’t stand a chance, so let me give you a word of advice, Kitten... I’d imagine it hurts less if you don't fight back.'

Sebastian sits back and stares. He does this, on occasion, writes vaguely (and not so vaguely) pornographic emails to his boss, but this last paragraph is something altogether different to what he usually puts in them. He had thought it, of course, and Sebastian isn't a man who likes to fool himself into thinking that he is in any way a good man, but this is crossing a brand new line.

He could, of course. He could go inside of Jim's bedroom and take him just as easily as he could press the send button. He wouldn't, though, he wouldn't do either of those things, because Sebastian might not be a very clever man, but he knows enough to not provoke Jim Moriarty. 

So Sebastian saves this email as a draft, just as he always does, and goes to bed. Jim, meanwhile, pours himself another glass of wine and logs on to Sebastian's email account. It's a habit he acquired some time ago, and an ongoing experiment in patience - both his own, and Sebastian's. At first he was convinced the sniper would cave first, but the more time passed without Sebastian making a single move, the more Jim began to fear he would be the one to lose this private little game.

When he reaches the bottom of the email, he has to admit it raises his eyebrows quite a bit. Someone’s had a break-through, and Jim will be damn sure to make use of it. Perhaps his bet isn't as lost as he thought it would be, especially not if he strolls out of his bedroom stark naked tomorrow morning. Yes, he decides, unzipping his fly. Yes, tomorrow morning, he’s going to up the stakes.

Within minutes, they are both masturbating, with the exact same thought in mind; what if Sebastian really had crossed that line and gone into Jim's bedroom?


End file.
